


"From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a story."

by Likorys



Series: Tumblr snippets [14]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Jaskier is not above any trick to get stories from Geralt, M/M, if he needs to work on them on his knees then he will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:07:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23178202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likorys/pseuds/Likorys
Summary: Geralt's body is full of scars that tell of monsters he fought and came back alive. Here's how Jaskier manages to make him talk about each and every one of them to put them into songs.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Tumblr snippets [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1651510
Comments: 3
Kudos: 121





	"From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a story."

**Author's Note:**

> The title is a quote by Craig Scott.

It was a bad idea to begin with and Geralt should’ve known better, but Jaskier was getting more incessantly curious and the constant questions about this or that scar were getting on his nerves.

He never listened when told to just shut up either, so forgive a witcher for being a little desperate for a moment of peace.

“Then let’s make a deal, love,” Jaskier asked one night, sat on Gerakt’s thighs with oil-slick hands digging into his back, undoing weeks worth of tension that gathered since their last parting.

Geralt’s _almost_ ready to admit he’d prefer to keep Jaskier with him at all times, baring the winter.

He hums as a response and tries not to smile indulgently when Jaskier takes it for a full answer, somehow reading him perfectly.

“Yes, Geralt, people like details and there’s only so much I can make out of your grunts and single words.” there is an eye-roll in this tone and Geralt does smile then.

Right before a curse and a shudder as Jaskier’s palms find a sore place where an old scar is always giving him trouble.

“This one, for example.” fingers trace the line of raised flesh before coming back to the massage. “I know it’s from a bruxa and that’s it, how much do you think I can fabricate before people notice, hmm, Geralt? I’m a poet, but even I prefer to have some bare bones of truth to my songs.” blunt nails scratch at his skin and Geralt sighs, shivering, by now well accustomed to the feel of them dragging across his back, if for a slightly different reason.

“You make do just fine.” he says, turning hs head to the side and looking at Jaskier.

His pout should not look so cute on a grown man, but somehow it does. It must be the blue eyes, or the curl of his hair.

“I do not!″ Jaskier slides off him and wipes his hands clean. “So let’s make a deal, Geralt.” he reminds him and Geralt sighs.

He hoped he forgot, because things like that always seem to turn out in Jasker’s favour. He should ignore him and hope he gives up, as small as a chance that is, but-

“What deal?“ he asks, because he adores the idiot and hopes to get him back closer, preferable with much less clothing.

Jaskier smiles at him.

“An exchange.” he says lightly, patting Geralt on the hip. “I suck you off and you only come when you stop talking.”

Geralt frowns, because it doesn’t really make sense. It’s not much of an incentive to get his tongue loose and he points that out, but Jaskier only smiles wider, too much teeth for comfort and asks him if he agrees.

Geralt does and regrets this not even a minute later, because that’s _exactly_ how long it takes Jaskier to do some magic and making him come almost as soon as bard puts his lips on him, since Geralt is adamant about keeping quiet.

The sex after mellow his out, but Jaskier’s smile is still much too satisfied.

The next three times Jaskier does it, he taps a scar before going on his kees. Geralt tries to keep quiet, not willing to give him the satisfaction, but after the third time of being left finished, but far from satisfied as Jaskier goes to spend an evening charming an inn with his songs, he’s had enough.

As soon as bard comes to their room he drags him into a kiss and then pushes him down. He grabs at his hand and lays it on his bare chest, fingers splaying across a wide bite.

“A werewolf.” he grunts trough gritted teeth and rolls his eyes at Jaskier’s glee. He does keep him on his knees with forced out words for long enough to not feel fucking _cheated_ when he comes into bard’s damn mouth, but promises himself that will be it.

It’s not, of course, and that’s how they ended where they are, Geralt on the bedroll and gasping for breath and Jaskier kneeling between his legs, tongue licking at his weeping cock, going at it for a good hour and at the third story right now.

Jaskier gave him a moment to catch his breath, but the fingers start to loosen around the base of his shaft so Geralt scratches at the ground, trying to focus.

“Found the- mages in o-old castle.” he forced out, now simply because he can barely speak and not because he doesn’t want to. “Used keplie to keep people out- fuck!” he pushed his hips up, head swimming.

He’s not sure how it happend. Jaskier refused to put his lips on him outside of the _deal_ so he begrudgingly decided it’s worth it, but then it started to become more about prolonging it for longer and longer stretches of time than anything else, until Geralt fell silent because he lost his voice completely and not because he chose he had enough.

The orgasms after such long wait, Jaskiers finger tight around him and his lips and tongue edging him on time after time, are simply too good to pass them up.

So it just became a thing. Probably just as Jaskier planned since the start and Geralt’s rightfully pissed about it when doesn't have him on his knees, which speakng about…

“Wanter Ifrit. You su-ummon them here, need power. Sa-acrifice!” he gasps, arching off the ground and tearing into the soil with his fingers. “Kelpie killed t-too may- gra-aviers spread and k-king called for a-ach!” he breaks off with a moan, panting and can’t find his voice again.

Jaskier takes him in fully, humming low in his throat as his fingers loosen around him and Geralt comes with a barely stifled keen, boots digging into the ground.

“I _hate_ this deal.” he rasps as soon as he recovered his breath and tries not to shiver at Jaskier swallowing and licking his lips.

Bard lies down and covers them with a blanket before snuggling closer.

“Liar.” he chuckles, kissing at Geralt’s neck.

Which, _yes_ , Geralt doesn’t hate the arrangement as it happens, but he does hate that he’s gonna either have to finish the story now or try and remember where he left off for next time.

Because Jaskier always remembers and won’t touch him unless Geralt does too. He’s also stubborn enough to hold out for a bloody month if he has to.

Geralt sighs and brigs him closer, kissing the top of his head.

“If monster starts making me horny, I’m blaming you.” he mutters into his hair.

“Will you now?” Jaskier, of course, pulls up to look at Geralt with the same wicked smile that landed them in this mess. “Always wondered how I’d look with fangs.” he shows off his teeth and leans down to bite at Geralt neck playfully. “You do look _so fetching_ covered in blood…” he licks at his skin and straddles his thight.

Geralt rolls his eyes and does not think about the many kinds of vampires that are sentient, rational and easy enough to control he’d be able to subdue one without the need to kill it outright in case of trouble.

Not at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a post by @ceraunos to be found here: https://ceraunos.tumblr.com/post/612317592813715456/i-think-the-fact-that-jaskier-has-been-singing


End file.
